


The Dish and the Spoon

by McVetty



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: (say that ten times fast), Archive Warning: CUTENESS, Avengers Crack Coffeeshop Headcanon AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-07
Updated: 2012-08-12
Packaged: 2017-11-11 16:10:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/480367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/McVetty/pseuds/McVetty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eternal trickster Loki Laufeyson works at a coffee shop in New York, the kind nestled between a used appliance store and a laundromat. Not exactly the place where big-time tycoon Tony Stark would stop to get his coffee. Except that, one day, it is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Loki Laufeyson worked at a coffee shop. A small, quaint coffee shop, the kind you find on streets, crammed between a laundromat and a used-appliance store. There was a chalkboard sign outside, decorated daily with the specials and occasionally a drawing of some pop-culture phenomenon. Once, the chalkboard sign was erased and replaced with a list of services offered by a very angry woman down the street in a skimpy outfit, but Loki wouldn't ever own up to that particular prank. It was something he enjoyed, those little pranks, and he pulled them whenever he had the chance. If his friends – and they were surprisingly many – came to order coffee from him, he would often prank them in some small way. Offering them the wrong drink, filling the cup with hot water, giving them an empty cup, Loki was very loose with his pranks.

So it stood that one day, when he was expecting a friend in from out-of-town, he would make a mistake. The coffee shop was busy, and his coworkers were working the till. Not because they didn't trust Loki with the money, but because they didn't trust him to give customers the real deal instead of paper monopoly money. Especially during rush-hour because that was just the kind of thing Loki did. Not that he was evil.

After the tenth iced mocha latte, he was getting a little annoyed. All _John Smith's_ and _Mary Sue's_ ordering the drinks, people that Loki couldn't possibly hope to prank, not with the boss finally getting on his heels about it. When a certain cup came to him, he had to pause, look at the name, and look to his coworker as if the cup were magical. It took him a moment to decide that the cup was part of a prank on _him_ , and he flipped it under the machine with ease.

_Tony Stark_ .

Well, from what he knew, Tony Stark was the surviving son of a wealthy businessman who owned half the city and supplied the entire military with top-secret weapons. It was, as Loki understood, a very boring and prank-free environment, what with the high-grade explosives. The order was a simple coffee, two sugars and one cream and a bit of whipped topping as a finisher. In all, Loki found it very bland for someone who wanted to parade as a wealthy person. So he embellished, and maybe added a few ingredients not usually found in coffee.

After sprinkling red pepper into the drink, he topped it with whipped cream and capped it, turning around and bringing it to the pick-up counter. He set it down and looked up, saying, “Here's your coffee, Mr. Star....” and stopped dead.

The man tilted his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, lowering the smart phone to peer at the offending barista. “I'm sorry, what was that?”

“Oh... I... Uh...”

The man reached out for his coffee. “You should work on faster service.”

“No!” Loki cried, grabbing for the drink. Their hands met halfway, knocking against the coffee and sending it teetering. “I'm sorry!”

Tony Stark's eyes went wide behind his sunglasses as he moved to avoid the liquid spill, lifting his phone above the mess. As the coffee cup crashed down, Loki's hand grabbed the styrofoam and tilted it back upright. Without thinking, he gathered a roll of paper towels and leaned across the counter with a handful, dabbing at Tony Stark's (previously) impeccably clean suit while repeating, “I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!”

“Excuse me,” Tony said snidely, stepping away and pulling the paper towels from Loki. “I don't think I ordered my coffee  _to wear_ . And... is that  _red pepper_ ? Did you put  _pepper in my coffee?_ ”

“I thought you were someone else, I am so sorry, please, let me make you a new drink, on me,” Loki pleaded, patting at the coffee left on the counter with partially shredded paper towels.

Tony paused, letting the offer sink in, before tossing the towels on the counter and shrugging out of his blazer, folding it across his arm. “No, I don't think so.”

“Please don't report this to my boss.”

By this time, a sizable line had formed, and his coworkers were beginning to get impatient with him. Loki excused himself with an apologetic look and swept the mess into a trash can behind the counter.

Tony Stark still hadn't moved, or much said anything.

Loki stepped around the counter, hesitantly gesturing to the wall of products. “Please, choose any one you like, on me.”

A glint passed Tony's eyes, gone in an instant. “I don't think I'll report you, but you have to do something for me.”

“What's that? I'll do anything.”

“Anything?”

Loki licked his lips and nodded.

“When do you get off work?”

Loki stared.

Tony checked his phone impatiently, then looked back to Loki from behind his dark sunglasses. “What's that? I couldn't hear you.”

“I... uh, nine.”

“Shame.”

“What?”

“It's a shame. I really needed someone to bring this to the dry-cleaners for me.”

“Oh... I can do that...”

Tony put his phone to his forehead, sighing in frustration. “No, I don't... god, you're dull. I have tickets to this Opera and I figure it's the worst thing I can possibly do to you, make you sit through one of those things, so I'm asking if you want to go with me. It'll make Pepper furious.”

“I don't get off work till nine...”

“I'll pick you up at seven, show starts at eight.”

“What are we doing for an hour?” Loki asked, barely believing what was happening and not about to protest.

Tony looked at him like it was completely obvious. “I'm not eating food at an Opera house.”

“Oh...”

“And do me a favor?”

Loki met Tony's eyes.

“Don't make me coffee again.”


	2. Chapter 2

True to his word, and perhaps a little unexpectedly on Loki's part, Tony Stark showed up promptly at seven with a new suit, minus his sunglasses. He didn't smile around his neatly trimmed beard as Loki excused himself from the counter. He didn't smile as Loki flipped his apron over the hook on the door, and he certainly didn't smile when Loki picked up a cup of coffee and stopped in front of him with a hesitant expression.

“Are you going to spill coffee on me again? Because I only do this nicely the first time,” Tony said.

Loki looked down, then met Tony's gaze. “No,” he said hesitantly.

“Good.”

Loki sipped the coffee, eyes staying on Tony's.

The tycoon looked down, reading the tag across Loki's chest and making a strange noise of clear disapproval. “What kind of name is Loki? And you're not wearing that. It's atrocious,” Tony said, gesturing up and down Loki's body. “Where's your apartment?”

Loki's face went blank, and he followed Tony's gesture with his eyes. Tony's thought-track went far and wide and rarely came back to the same point twice. “Excuse me?”

“We're going to an Opera, you _do_ realize, you can't just wear street clothes.”

“I work at a cafe called _Dish and Spoon_ , you do realize I don't _own_ a fancy suit.”

The problem with Loki was that respect for authority didn't last very long, and just when things were going smoothly, he had to speak up. Prior to his job at the Dish and Spoon, he went through six different jobs, each one slightly different from the last and in completely different places of the city so none of the owners potentially knew each other. When Loki lost his cool with authority, his pranks went from cute and funny to deliberately destructive. Maybe the cops were involved, maybe they weren't, but for all intents and purposes, he liked to keep all of his business ventures separate from each other.

“Don't take that tone with me,” Tony warned, wagging his finger. “I still have blackmail material, and I'm not afraid to use it.”

A long, hesitant pause fell between them.

“Well, I don't have a suit,” Loki said, his tone softened.

Tony turned and started walking, forcing Loki to follow. “I'll get you one. What are you, a small?” He turned around, eying up Loki, and pulled out his phone. “You're so damn boney. Let me call someone, they can fit you for a suit and you'll look less like you belong in a hipster punk-rock band and more like you belong in the rest of society.”

Loki didn't _think_ he looked that bad, but he didn't find room to protest because upon walking out the doors of Dish and Spoon, there was a black limo waiting for them. The driver stood outside the driver's door, on his cell phone, but as soon as he saw Tony Stark, he dropped the phone into his pocket and gave the tycoon his full attention.

“Mr. Stark, where to?”

Tony opened the back door, gesturing for Loki to get in. He paused in his quiet phone conversation to answer the driver. “The nearest food joint, Happy, and the tailor after that. Close the window and listen to your favorite music, I have to talk to this one.”

Loki crawled into the back seat, making himself comfortable against the driver's rear door and searching (to no avail) for a seat-belt. He settled for holding his coffee between both hands in his lap and trying to look innocent enough. Tony slid in after him, closing the door, and the window between the cab and the passenger compartment slowly rolled up as classical music wafted from the radio. Tony opened the mini-fridge, pulling out an unmarked bottle of amber liquid and a cold glass. He poured himself a fourth of the glass, returning the bottle to the fridge before sipping his drink and looking to Loki.

“How do you like cheeseburgers?”

Loki hesitated to answer, a flicker of a frown on his face. “They're... okay.”

“I've had a long week. I was in Iraq three days ago, you know. The papers did a whole spread on it, how I'm selling weapons to the terrorists. Pepper is furious. Was furious. She's probably still furious, actually. It's bad press, but any press is good press to me. What I really want right now is an American cheeseburger.”

Loki watched Tony take another delicate, almost _teasing_ sip. “Where do you get your cheeseburgers? I can't imagine someone like you at McDonalds.”

“Burgerking, actually,” Tony corrected.

“Really.” Loki's tone was flat.

“Is there something wrong with that?” Tony asked, rolling the glass between his fingers.

“I just thought, with as much money as you make, you wouldn't mind spending thirty dollars on a burger.”

Tony paused, the glass going still in his hand. “Thirty dollars? On a burger? What kind of crackpot world have you been living in, Truman?”

“I just thought...”

“Don't think,” he said dismissively, sipping at the glass. “It looks bad on you.”

Loki pursed his lips, letting his eyes drift around the back of the limo.

“That brooding, pensive look is pretty good. You practice that much?” Tony asked playfully, downing the last of the drink and setting the glass in the cup-holder beside the mini-fridge. A long stretch of silence filled the cab, and when the limo came to a stop, Tony seemed relieved. After a long pause and some muffled speaking outside the cab, the window rolled itself down and Happy handed a bag back. Rather than take it, Tony let him set the bag on the seat. Only once the window rolled back up, and the sound of classical music was once again muffled, did he grab the paper bag. He pulled out a wrapped burger and set the bag between himself and Loki. “They're good,” he said, motioning to the bag.

“You refuse to eat Opera food, and instead choose these?” Loki asked, reaching for his own. “You are... quite strange.”

“I get that a lot.”

Loki learned quickly that, when Tony ate, he didn't talk. Although the tycoon finished his burger in nearly record time, once he started it, he didn't give time to speak while eating it. And, maybe it was Loki's imagination, but he could have sworn Tony was making very small, hardly audible _happy_ noises for each bite. If that was the oddest thing he learned that day, he didn't mention it. How many people, upon first meeting, observe something so intimate about one another?

The limo stopped again, and this time Tony tossed the empty wrapper into the empty bag and jumped out of the limo as if he were, perhaps, on fire. Loki followed, with less enthusiasm, as Tony clapped his hands to urge him on.

“Move faster, Pokey, all the other puppies are home by now. The Opera starts in...” he checked his watch, “twenty-nine minutes and your suit awaits you.”

Tony basically pushed Loki into the shop, waving his arms at the employees standing behind the counter. “This man needs a suit,” he announced. “Something sharp, something organic.” Tony spun around, walking backward on his heels to look Loki up and down. “Maybe throw some green in there, something with flare, can you do that?” he asked, directing his final question to the woman standing still beside the counter.

She paused a good deal longer than necessary while formulating a response, as if trying to decide what was going on, before she nodded. “Yes, I believe I can.”

“Honey, no, I don't need you to believe, I need you to know. We have,” he looked at his watch again, “twenty-six minutes to get to the Opera.”

“The Opera?” she asked.

“That's what I said.”

“Right...” The woman moved to Loki, holding a tape-measure out. “Come with me, we just need a few measurements...”

Twenty-five minutes later, the woman and Loki returned from the back, both of them looking considerably foolish, Loki more so. Tony was browsing brochures for various shops and events downtown when he heard them coming back.

“What took so long?” Tony asked, turning around. He stopped himself to look Loki up and down. The suit was plain black, not incredibly tight (“We didn't have time to tailor it,” the woman excused.), and yet tucked itself into the natural angles of Loki's body quite well. The barista held his folded clothes out in front of him, looking for the world like he lost a bet. The tie was a deep forest green, standing out against the white of his undershirt.

“Mr. Stark, is this acceptable attire for your Opera?” Loki asked. While looking quite uncomfortable, he found his snark quite easily enough.

Tony swallowed any comment he wished to make. “You look like a dapper gentleman.”

“I feel ridiculous.”

“Charming,” Tony replied briskly, dropping an undisclosed amount of money onto the counter. “Keep the change,” he said to the woman, once again leaving so Loki would have to follow. Once outside, Tony checked his watch again, sighing dramatically. “We have one minute to get to the Opera.”

Loki didn't know what to say in response. Tony ushered him into the limo and he climbed in awkwardly, feeling stiff in the new suit. Tony slid in after him, rapping his knuckles against the window between the cab and the passenger compartment. As he closed his door, the limo began moving, and they were off again. For Loki, it was all very surreal and perhaps too much to take in all at once, because he sat quietly, having recovered his coffee from the top of the mini-fridge, and was sipping non-stop like it was a never ending supply. Eventually, as with all things, it ran out and he shook the styrofoam cup until the last drops landed on his outstretched tongue.

“You do this often?” Tony asked, lounging against the door with one leg kicked up, knee tucked over the other. “Its just that you look like you've practiced the whole thing.”

“I work at a coffee shop.”

“You'd think they could give you free coffee so you don't have to drink every last drop. You're going to look like a squirrel soon, might want to tone it down.”

“If you don't mind my asking, what were you doing at Dish and Spoon in the first place?” Loki asked curiously, looking at Tony.

Tony quirked an eyebrow. “Uh, yes I do mind, actually, and no, it's not any of your business so don't worry about it.”

Loki pressed on. “It just doesn't seem like the kind of place-”

“I said I don't want to talk about it.”

Loki shifted on the seat, looking out the window before turning back to look at Tony again. “It seems odd that you would go to such a small, out-of-the-way place.”

Tony took out his liquor again, pouring a glass and tipping it back in one go. “You should drop it and be glad I don't report you to your boss.”

“Well, actually, that's the thing. I've been thinking about it,” Loki said, pausing dramatically. “I've never actually _met_ my boss, right? And neither has anyone else in the shop. So I was wondering...”

“No.”

“You have to admit...”

“I don't have to admit guilt of any kind. I want my lawyer,” Tony said quickly.

“So does this mean I'm fired?” Loki asked.

Tony looked him up and down over the rim of his glass, licking his lips. “Well that depends.”

Loki took the bait. “On what?”

“Do you spill coffee on all your customers?”

“Only the ones that surprise me. Do you ask all your employees on outings of a non-business relation?”

“Only the ones that catch my eye,” Tony replied briskly.

Loki gave it pause, then smiled. “You are odd, you know that?”

“So I've been told.”

“Do I get to keep my job?”

“If you cooperate with this Opera thing. I kind of expect it to be a hit.”

The limo came to a stop. Tony put his hand on the door, unwinding himself from his seat.

“Ready?” he asked.

“I'm not sure,” Loki replied.

Tony grinned. “Good answer.”

 

.......

 

The morning press went wild. Across the cover of every newspaper in New York, Tony Stark and Loki Laufeyson – known only as the mysterious man – were smiling for the cameras. Beneath the picture read the caption, _“Billionaire Tony Stark brings male date to premier of Opera, sparks controversy. Who is the handsome mystery man?”_

Tony got the call at five in the morning. He had to untangle himself from Loki, who was decently and fully dressed because he couldn't hold his liquor, to answer the phone. Pepper's voice on the other end was furious, demanding an explanation.

Tony grunted, stretched, yawned, and scratched his beard.

“All press is good press, Pepper. Run with it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end! I'm sorry that it is really the end, because I would love this to go on, but I can only go so far before things become very sad and angsty. Thank you for your support! Your comments made me smile and I loved every one of them! I hope you enjoyed the story, it was fun to write something cute and innocent for The Avengers, finally! <3 xoxo


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